Continued Stories - U pick the title

[jpd]

The soft light in her eyes was interrupted by the crashing of the front window glass as the piano suddenly stopped playing.

"They're back for more..." she whispered, dropping her wine glass while abruptly tugging at my hand and ushering me towards the service doors, the clattering din of the kitchen unaffected as we darted through with clouds of steam and a chattering radio blaring baseball scores behind us.

[jpd]

"Is that your Lamborghini?" I ask in the sudden expanse of the parking garage.

"It's my ex's.  Get in!" she replied, working the door locks easily

Gunfire from the kitchen distracted me as Bill Withers began playing from her car radio with "I know I know I know I know I know I know I know I know...." amid the smashing of kettles in the distance.

"Get in.  Last chance."   she added as the gunfire began to draw closer.

We were on the streets of the city 4.3 seconds later, and a quarter mile distant after 7.2 seconds.  

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone.  Only darkness every day" the radio played on.

"Gum?" she asks, offering her hand towards me under the dim glow of flashing streetlights as I latch the seat belt in zero gravity, the car and the girl and my entire world, airborne now.





 

[jpd]

"No thanks.  Smoke?" I offered instead as my trembling hands rattled at a package of reds, struggling to handle the product due to our enormous speeds and the warping of light and gravity through the windshield.

"You're out of your mind smoking that crap." she says while suddenly digging in her purse with her free hand.   The free hand which wasn't at the wheel as the neon blurred on all sides of us with wild colors.   "Light me up."  she ordered as I studied the chicken-foot bowl.

The scent of gasoline, burnt rubber and death filled the car as she glanced back at me with perfect, powder-blue, eyes.    "What?" she asked curiously.

"What is that smell?" I replied, cautiously warming her pipe with a lighter before pressing it into her free hand.  "Did a mouse die in the glove box, or something?"  I ask.

"Dead chick in the trunk."   she whispered before drawing deeply and taking a sudden left turn, my jaw smacked against the side window amid the whirl of blinking yellow streetlights and the towering pillars of enterprise which climbed into the stary heavens above.

[jpd]

July 5th:  189 reads.  Zero contributions.   Mostly by registered members I would guess, since 'guests' would have no way of knowing this is a newer topic.   Yet every time I post something new to Continued Stories I'll get 40 reads within 24 hours.     

So what's the deal?  I'm not going to post another piece where I am the only contributor.   That is NOT the purpose of continued stories.   

Is this topic dead?   Is the topic alright but do the stories here just suck?

If I get no response to this plea then the girl in the Lamborghini dies.

No pressure.   

Take all the time you need...




 

[jpd]

I have 29 reads since the 5th of July.   Zero contributions.

The Lamborghini suddenly burst into flames almost a full second before she missed her curve; the car exploding in a ball of theatrical flames long before she plunged to her death.  Truthfully, the car was ablaze long before she ever hit the guardrail.   In fact, the car was blown-up by pyrotechnics experts and the blonde model was in her trailer when the scene unfolded.    Just then there was a knock at the door as a pizza was delivered.

What?

You wanted to read a compelling story instead?







 

[wilddaisy666]

Ah bugger I missed my oppo to contribute!! Can we start again?? You go first. Your last one was excellent.

[jpd]

How about you go first?   Put your wacky mind to work and say something wonderful?   Just an idea I had.